Chapter 4

Fiona was crying on the other end, saying she was stranded and couldn't walk. Asher started sweating with panic, turning to me with an apologetic look.

"Chloe, wait for me here. I'll be back soon."

"No, Asher. I'm scared."

"Be good. I promise I'll be right back. Something happened to Fiona."

I begged him not to leave me alone on that deserted island. But the rescue boat hadn't arrived yet, so he actually jumped into the water and swam back to the mainland.

He didn't return that day.

I was stranded on that island for two whole days without food. My hypoglycemia kicked in, and combined with a severe panic attack, I collapsed on the beach.

I almost died.

And Fiona's "emergency"? She had merely stubbed her toe while shopping.

During my days in the hospital, I was initially just hurt and angry, waiting for him to come and comfort me.

But I never saw him until the day I was discharged.

Later, I found out that Fiona had wanted to go on a trip, so he had flown out of the country with her during my entire hospitalization.

I thought this time would be like our past fights, where we wouldn't speak for weeks. But to my surprise, Asher came to see me very quickly.

He was holding a box of desserts from my favorite bakery, sighing with helpless indulgence.

"Chloe, you still have such a temper. Who else but me would put up with you? Come on, unblock me on Snapchat."

Oh, so he had finally realized I blocked him.

"I didn't block you."

"It's your account. Who else could it be? We're getting engaged soon, you really need to work on your temper if we're going to spend our lives together."

He sounded so reasonable, as if he were looking out for me. But he forgot that my temper was something he had spoiled into existence.

He used to tell me that as long as he was by my side, I could do whatever I wanted.

"Did you come here today just to lecture me?"

"Sigh, I was wrong about what happened the other night. I was just angry. Look, Chloe, I bought a designer bag. Take it and give it to Fiona. It was her birthday, after all. As her future sister-in-law, you should show some grace."

If Fiona were really his biological sister, this gesture might have been sweet.

Too bad she wasn't.

I let out a mocking laugh.

"Get on her good side so the three of us can share a bed? Are you planning on having one of us on each arm?"

"Chloe! How can you say something so vulgar!"

His face instantly darkened.

I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms. "Am I being vulgar, or are your actions just plain disgusting?"

"Fiona is afraid of the dark!"

"She's twenty-two! If she's afraid of the dark, she can leave the lights on, sleep with her mother, or hire 24-hour security! Why does she need to squeeze into the same bed as a man she has no blood relation to?"

Just the thought of it made me physically sick.

"And you bought her lingerie. If you haven't looked at her or touched her, how do you know her exact measurements?"

"You... you are being absolutely ridiculous! I only see her as a sister!"

He slammed the pastry box onto the floor with a loud splat.

I bent down, picked up the box, and hurled it right back at his face.

"Don't you dare throw a tantrum in my house! Get the hell out!"

"Fine! I'm leaving! Don't expect me to crawl back to you before the engagement party!"

He was threatening me.

Because he knew, better than anyone, that I had no other choice but to marry him.

Over the past few years, my father's illegitimate son had become increasingly arrogant. If it weren't for the alliance with the Miller family, my father probably wouldn't even leave my mother's company to me.

That company was my mother's life's work. I couldn't let it fall into the hands of a mistress's child.

So Asher knew I had to marry him.

Maybe our fight during the day had exhausted me, because that night, I dreamed of the past.

When I was nine, my father brought his secret love-child home.

How ironic. That boy was only three years younger than me. While I was nearly losing my mind from grief over my mother's death, my father had already built a second family outside.

What did I do back then?

I was furious, devastated.

I screamed and threw myself at the boy, only for my father to slap me hard, knocking me to the floor.

"He is your brother! If you don't accept him, you don't eat today!"

But I was stubborn.

If he said no food, I wouldn't eat.

I locked myself in my dark room, curling up on the bed.

It wasn't until Asher broke my second-floor window and climbed in that he found me unconscious from severe hypoglycemia.

My chronic hypoglycemia started from that day.

The thin, young boy had cried hysterically as he dragged me out, his tears splashing onto my face as he begged me not to die.

I was practically cried back to life by him.

From that day on, Asher strictly monitored my meals.

For a long time, he would even sneak into my room at night just to shake me awake, terrified that I would slip into a coma again.

He was the one who dragged me out of that living hell.

He had saved me. So, even when he ignored me for Fiona's sake time and time again, I always convinced myself:

Once we get married, everything will go back to the way it was.

But now I realized how wrong I was.